After hanging up the phone, Maxwell rubbed his brow and went back to the bedroom.
Serena was still running a high fever, her eyes quietly closed.
He sat on the edge of her bed and reached up to pin her hair behind her ear.
Her face was so small, palm-sized and white and delicate.
Her eyes gave off a clean and well-behaved look when they were closed, but once they were open, her gaze was always sharp and determined.
"Matthew ......"
Serena mumbled a cry, her brows knitted together tightly as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, one after the other.
Maxwell wiped her tears away with his fingertips, but they never ended.
His fingertips burned, and the heat seemed to be like a small snake, burrowing into her heart.
"Matthew, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ......"
She cried out with a hoarse cry, her brow filled with unease.
Maxwell held her hand and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.